


Close Ranks

by Veul_McLannon



Category: Are You Being Served?
Genre: Angst, Full disclaimer I wasn’t there and am writing as a mostly-closeted lesbian., Gen, Hurt/Comfort, If you don’t want to read about the impact of Section 28 on the community please stop now, Nobody really gets together but it’s Heavily implied Mr Lucas has a Thing for Mr Humphries, Post-1988 and the introduction of Section 28., Two uses of the q-slur in that context hence the teen rating, lowkey pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-16
Updated: 2019-03-16
Packaged: 2019-11-18 18:06:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,595
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18124682
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Veul_McLannon/pseuds/Veul_McLannon
Summary: Mr Humphries isn’t gay,* but that wouldn’t stop Thatcher’s pigs. The staff of Grace Bros rally round.





	Close Ranks

**Author's Note:**

> *he’s bi as per the series itself, but the charm of him is he can be any sexuality you like... and of course in any case, bisexuality would have been considered just as bad.

It was a Wednesday morning like any other Wednesday morning. It was slump day, the day the department started dreaming of the weekend, the day which took at least five hours too long to get to the end of.

It was a terrible day. They had all seen the news last night. Things had been getting worse for a while, but now it was official. The 75% of the population who thought being gay was ‘wrong’ had been vindicated. The amendment which would come to be known as Section 28 had outlawed the ‘promotion’ of homosexuality. But what did that _mean_ , in practice?

As the members of the Grace Brothers’ gents and ladies department trickled into work, the question at the forefront of all their minds was:

_Would Mr Humphries appear?_

***

Wilberforce Claybourne Humphries glanced perfunctorily in the mirror by the door as he left for work, as he always did. Straightened his tie, as he always did. Gave his mother a kiss goodbye as she waited by the door, as he always did. Ignored the lip-curling of his fellow commuters, as he always did. Felt the anxiety drop away from him the deeper he ventured into Grace Brothers, as he always did.

Felt it ratchet back up again as the lift doors opened on the first floor, which was new. He swallowed.

Then proceeded down the stairs as he always did, trilling “Good morning, Captain Peacock!”, signing in and going to sequester his coat in the back room. He pretended he hadn’t noticed the atmosphere, the sense of a bubble just about to burst. After all, it might only have been him.

***

By the time the morning break rolled around (only three customers and one sale; he was so off his game he let Mr Lucas have it), the sense that a thundercloud was about to open over the department’s collective head had mostly dissipated. They trundled down to the canteen for lukewarm tea, Mr Humphries bringing up the rear with Mrs Slocombe, chatting about everything – _anything_ – but the news of last night.

When their turn came in the tea queue, Mrs Slocombe passed the first cup back to a mildly flummoxed Mr Humphries, smiling fondly as he opened his mouth to protest.

“I have to look after my favourite member of the men’s department now, don’t I?” She linked their free arms to steer him to their usual seats. “Come on.”

***

Lunch passed without incident. It was only as they were leaving the canteen that they heard the hissed word from one of the other tables: “ _Queer_.”

Captain Peacock’s spine stiffened minutely, but before he could open his mouth, Miss Brahms had rounded on the offender, subjecting him to the horror of her strident tones in full power as she towered over their table:

“And who would you be referrin’ to, then? Not our Mr Humphries, I know that much, cos it was just yesterday he only went and pinched my bottom in the lift! Can’t keep his bloody hands to himself, that one – an’ _I_ should know! He’s a bloody menace! Which is more’n I can say for you, Mister Leitman – what, don’t think we don’t all know your wife’s leaving you for a younger, better-looking man! You need to stop-” she fixed her eyes on a point near the ceiling “-projectin’ your insecurities onto other people, is what you need to do. I’ll thank you to keep your bloody gob shut, cos you don’t know _anythin’._ ”

She sniffed archly, and stalked out of the room, leaving the men and Mrs Slocombe to follow in her lead.

In the lift on the way back up, Mr Humphries caught her eye and smiled minutely, concernedly. She beamed back at him.

***

“Can I walk you home, Claybourne?” Mr Lucas asked in a worried undertone, catching him as they all scrambled for their coats, in time-honoured fashion, seconds after the closing bell.

Something tightened behind Mr Humphries’ eyes, the perpetual smile cracking at the edges.

“Thank you, Mr Lucas, but no. I- you-...” _I would only incriminate you. More than ever, now._ The unspoken words hung between them like an oil slick. The smile broke a little as he laid a hand on his junior’s lapel. “I’ll be fine, thank you.” He swallowed and summoned a grin back onto his face. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Mr Lucas.”

James Lucas sighed heavily at the retreating back of his friend, feeling a sudden weight descend on his shoulders. The whole idea was ludicrous. Would have been ludicrous, if it hadn’t been so frightening. Claybourne would never hurt anyone. Why, even after over a decade of working together, of going to parties together, getting drunk together, collapsing on sofas together, ruing work on Monday morning – not once had he ever tried it on with him. He was the kind of man Mr Lucas sometimes wished he could be. Genteel, respectful.

He gathered up his hat and traipsed slowly up the stairs to the lifts.

***

For a few weeks, everything continued as usual. The usual malfunctions of robotics, the usual dour customers, the usual Grace-sent and pointless ideas for increasing sales. By an unspoken mutual agreement, Mr Lucas now took measurements while Mr Humphries sought out the appropriate items. But that was all.

***

Captain Peacock stood at attention in the centre of the room, outwardly as calm as anything, playing most convincingly the role of the totally clueless.

“A Mr who? No, I’m afraid there is nobody by that name in this department, perhaps you have the wrong floor.” He indicated towards the lift, but the police wouldn’t be dissuaded.

“Right, Mister.” (Peacock’s nostril flared minutely; a tic jumped in his jaw, but this was not the time. Now was not the time.) “See, we have been specifically informed of an employee in the men’s deparment _takin’ liberties_ , and it is our duty to investigate, as upholders of the law.” He smiled nastily. “You wouldn’t be _obstructin’_ the law, would you?”

Captain Peacock hadn’t moved a muscle, staring down at the policemen coldly. He waited just long enough for the more junior of the two to start fidgeting anxiously, then spoke. “By all means question the staff. I shall not prevent you.”

“Very wise,” the older of the two sneered, peeling off to the men’s counter.

“You the only one here?” he drawled, leaning on the counter nearest Mr Lucas.

“No, sir, no, my senior in the department is – away, currently sir, there are usually two of us. Sir.” Mr Lucas tried his best at his standard winning smile.

“Two... of... you...” the officer wrote pedantically, pointlessly, in his notebook. “And your name is?”

“Lucas, sir. James Lucas.”

“And your superior?”

Mr Lucas caught Captain Peacock’s eye over the officer’s hat. The salt-and-pepper head shook minutely.

“Mr Grainger. First name unknown, sir.”

“No queers on this floor, then? Nobody else?”

Mr Lucas managed to suppress the hitch in his breathing. “No sir.” He might have been proud that his voice didn’t shake, if he weren’t so damned afraid. He prayed to god that Mr Humphries would stay off the floor for at least another five minutes, until these _bastards_ cleared off.

They loitered for another ten minutes, but eventually even they had to admit that the search was luckless. The doors had just closed on the lift, removing them from sight, when Mr Humphries stepped out of the other, skipping down the stairs back to his place behind the counter.

“Sorry I took so long, Captain Peacock, haberdashery were- gosh, you all look like you’ve seen a ghost, what did I miss?”

“Well, we all thought you’d passed on to the next realm, Mr Humphries, what with you being gone half an hour!” Mr Lucas commented, to a chuckle from Captain Peacock and a bemused smile from Mr Humpries.

“You’re a funny lot,” he commented, going back to rearranging the ties.

***

“Someone at the door, mother! I’ll get it!” Mr Humphries had just finished hanging up his coat, and did an about turn to reopen the door, a little cautiously. He had heard stories of people being followed home.

“Mr Lucas! I-”

He was interrupted by his junior – his friend, he ought to have said, stepping fully over the threshold and, before he could register his alarm, gathering him into a desperate hug, kicking the door shut behind him.

Mr Humphries blinked and awkwardly lifted his arms to pat Mr Lucas’ back.

“I’m sorry I followed you, Claybourne,” came the muffled admission into his shoulder. “Only- I-” his voice broke, the hug tightening, and Mr Humphries turned his stilted patting into little reassuring circles, until it felt less like Mr Lucas – James – was about to start sobbing in his front hall.

“What’s this all about then?” he asked gently, peering up at the other’s face as he eased away.

Mr Lucas’ face scrunched up in pain, or confusion, or perhaps both. “I really am sorry, Claybourne,” he repeated. “I shouldn’t have followed you, I just- one of my friends- last week, they- he-” His breath caught, ending his aborted attempts to explain, but Mr Humphries understood.

“Is he...?”

Mr Lucas shook his head, still staring at the floor. “I just... I couldn’t bear it if... I had to know you were safe, Claybourne.” He looked wretched, as though he hadn’t slept for a week.

“Come and have a cup of tea, dear,” was the rejoinder as Mr Humphries led him to the kitchen, the shadow over their heads darkening.

Mr Lucas followed meekly. There was nothing else to say.

**Author's Note:**

> If you actually read this I would love to hear from you - lord knows this is Not the kind of thing I like to read, so I'm not sure why I wrote it, but there we go~


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